


shake like the bough of a willow tree

by Flowerparrish



Series: winterhawk bingo [5]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bingo Fill, Exhibitionism, M/M, Public Groping, Teasing, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 18:16:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20178610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/pseuds/Flowerparrish
Summary: Teasing Bucky during press conferences might be Clint’s new favorite pastime.





	shake like the bough of a willow tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crazycatt71](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazycatt71/gifts).

> Winterhawk Bingo Fill: public groping
> 
> Thanks to the discord buds for helping me figure out what to write for this square!

They’re at a press conference about the latest string of alien invasions. It’s boring, and every question is directed at Steve or Natasha, and Clint and Bucky are seated next to each other down at the end of the table.

So, really, whoever planned the seating chart was just asking for disaster.

Clint moves in slowly. He starts by just placing his hand on Bucky’s thigh; both of Bucky’s arms are on the table, his elbow a little bit in Clint’s space, and it’s just enough to divert attention from the fact that Clint’s only got one arm visible.

Bucky tenses briefly when Clint’s hand lands on his thigh, but Clint can read in the lines of his body that only it’s from surprise.

Bucky angles his head the tiniest amount, almost as if he’s listening more closely to what some reporter is saying. What he’s really doing, though, is glancing more fully at Clint out of the corner of his eye, a question in the movement.

Clint doesn’t reply. Instead, he moves his hand lower, stroking over the inside of Bucky’s thigh, hoping Bucky can read the challenge in the motion: _stay still and don’t let anyone figure out what’s going on. _

Bucky sucks in a breath, the tiniest motion, and nods with a small dip of his chin.

_Excellent. _

Clint strokes of the inside of Bucky’s thigh, pinky finger inching closer and closer to Bucky’s dick but never quite brushing against it. Bucky’s breathing has gone back to even, but that’s the fun of the challenge.

It’s not that Clint _wants _to be caught teasing his boyfriend and trying to get him off during a press conference—not exactly. It’s the thrill of the high stakes, of trying to draw a reaction from Bucky when he has to stay quiet. It’s Clint’s favorite kind of game.

He brushes his pinky against Bucky’s cock, already hard in his jeans, and Bucky’s fingers twitch on the table.

Clint holds in his grin just barely; it’s inappropriate for what’s going on in the press conference that he’s keeping half an ear on, for the conversation about structural damage hurting small businesses that’s currently happening. Instead, he presses his hand more fully against Bucky’s cock, cups him in his jeans but doesn’t press down, doesn’t give him any friction to get him off.

Bucky’s hips don’t jerk, but he does twitch his fingers again, and Clint’s going to take each of those tells as a win. They’re a visible part of his body—it totally counts, right?

When Clint risks a glance at Bucky, his face has fallen into the murder glare that Clint knows is just him shutting down reactions, but that scares the shit out of reporters. _Score. _

Clint squeezes Bucky’s cock and gets no response, so he does it again, dragging his palm against Bucky’s cock and pressing down against the head.

Bucky’s fingers curl the slightest amount, like he wants to make a fist but is holding himself back. His breathing has ticked up slightly; Clint knows his heart’s beating faster than normal without needing to feel it.

He wants to undo Bucky’s fly, to reach into his pants and get a hand on his cock for real, but he knows that might be going too far. So he squeezes and rubs and does his best to get Bucky hot and bothered.

He doesn’t get Bucky off by the end of the press conference. Bucky glares at him before standing, outline of his dick just visible in his pants, and stalking away before anyone can get pictures that might be poured over later.

Clint takes his time following Bucky, and is surprised when he gets out into the hall and sees him nowhere in sight. He walks slowly down the hall, keeping his eyes peeled, but is still surprised when a hand reaches out of the bathroom alcove and yanks him inside.

“What—” he starts to say, before the rest of his words are cut off in a kiss, hot and demanding and bruising in force.

When Bucky pulls away from Clint’s lips, moving his mouth down to suck at Clint’s neck, Clint lets his head thunk back against the tile and says, “Oh, _fuuuck,” _the curse drawn out as Bucky bites a bruise into his skin.

“You gonna finish what you started?” Bucky asks, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of Clint’s neck and giving him chills.

“Yeah, fuck, c’mere,” Clint says, hands going to Bucky’s hips to reel him in. He shoves a hand down Bucky’s pants without a care and jerks him off with very little finesse and a lot of enthusiasm.

When Bucky comes, he bites down on the skin just above Clint’s collarbone, licking over it as he comes down from the rush. “Fuck,” he says. “Thanks.”

“Uh, you gonna return the favor?” Clint asks. He gestures down at his hard cock, staining against his own jeans.

“We gotta go find the others,” Bucky points out. “But maybe later, if you’re lucky.”

Clint whines in his throat. “Please?”

“Nope,” Bucky says, popping the p. “I’m the one that’s gotta deal with come in my pants, c’mon. We’ll suffer together.”

“You’re the _worst,” _Clint complains. Bucky raises an eyebrow, amused, and Clint huffs and relents. “Okay, fine, we’re both the worst. You owe me a blowjob later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky says, waving him away. “Like I wouldn’t blow you anyway.”

It’s true, he totally would. Clint grins happily to himself. “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and you’re lucky to have me. Now, c’mon, punk, we gotta find the others so we can get out of here.”

He waits for Clint to wash off his hand before they go—the cum on his skin would be just a _little _noticeable—and then allows Clint to link their hands as they leave.

Man, teasing Bucky during press conferences might be Clint’s new favorite pastime. He can’t wait for the next one.


End file.
